the connects battle rap league - danny myers vs. saint mic lyrics
[round 1: saint mic]
n-gga you’se a b-tch
straight f-g…coooookie crisp…in the face -ss
time!
i’m glad they got me battlin’ yo’ b-tch -ss
yeah i’m finna dump
think sh-t’s sweet ’til he ice for the bread
f-ck you, your face looks like the inside of a cinnabon
n-gga get mad
told you i got hillbilly sk!ll with the shotty, put a hole in ya c-mmerbund, don’t get c-mbersome
i’m after big bucks to prove a point, yes my dear (deer) i’m on the hunt for some
y’all be friendin’ king? aight cool
with these scam artists he jip chins (egyptians)
i prove your peer a mid (pyramid)
it’s a wrap for ya golden boy, yeah, the mummy one
bar god, they say, “danny fire”
i say, “another weak p-ssy.” puttin’ his blood, sweat and tears on the pad tryin’ to stop the kid
danny myers a panty liner versus a camping fire
yeah, sh-t’ll get intense (in tents) from this heated round
why don’t you try trippin’, bringin’ ya family by us (bias)
{chokes}
bar god, nah fraud
name i can’t take this sh-t for real
n-gga up here with a wardrobe that ain’t worth five 20’s but still gon’ convince us that he fit the bill
this n-gga cheap
where it’s gon’ be just like the jell-o pudding when i pop this ugly sweater built n-gga and his b-tch gettin’ k!lled
i’m doctor huxtable with the delivery and i’m makin’ sure the media gettin’ taxed for tryin’ to split the bill
bar god
my force greater, real kings enforce greater
they sent me the contract to k!ll you pst, i sent back divorce papers
told ’em “sign that.” and they’re like, “why’s that?”
i said, “cause i’m finna split this disloyal b-tch’s sh-t for real.”
we on the wrong side of the court for paper, we on two different fields
possess different sk!lls, example
i let the .38 special park in (parking) spots for the take out
yeah i’ma eat at the crib, but that ain’t mean i’m goin’ in for my mil’ (meal)
flip the pistol, you gettin’ hit wit’ steel
‘you got that’- rapist babyface in the face -ss n-gga ain’t no fault yo’ jaw got that ‘whip appeal’
bar god
you straight sanitation
no, sport replay animation
cause he only know the route to make the play after the fact, n-gga you ain’t really in the field
bro, me? low key? og
ten toes down, n-gga he ain’t of steel, you’ll never beat me
you an open cookbook, freckles yeah and your recipes be forever cheesy
so the steel gon’ still leave an impression for the bread, get ya head panini
pull out the auto grip to his head like a leather beanie
then hide the ooze like shredder seen him
you can get a round then hooked for the low in (lower) case you ain’t tryin’ to let a g be
he said, cause he battlin’ tay he finna go pound for pound wit’ him
hoe n-gga please
only way daniel sonnin’ me is cause his body karate kid around wit’ me
i’m past tight
i’m on a rampage
every n-gga in cave gang can catch a d-mn fade
catch a cave man in his man cave
and every n-gga from that gang hang from that cave man like stalact-tes
i’m that nice
[?] it’s all even, go ‘head n-gga, it’s on you, talk greasy
[round 1: danny myers]
if this guy here happens to boast threats
i’ll be in saint hood (sainthood) like five years after a post death
in my hood, wasn’t go guidance, just rugers was p-ssed down
that’s why you’ll see a fallen saint like lucifer cast down
watch what i do to this sad clown, i’ll pop off ya committee
what’s crackin’ b-tch? if you got a problem, come and get me
.357, i was gon’ dog him with the .50
but nebraska should be used to seeing a revolver in the city
don’t get involved, there’s a whole lotta sh-t that the fifth can solve
i told my n-ggas when they see saint nickle his (nicolas) head like mrs. claus
we live by different laws, this is war but i’m not eager
this is a thot seeker versus dot’s teacher
i’ll son (sun) god, for talkin’ all this rah (ra)
but the difference is i knew (anu’) he wasn’t ready for this egyptian sh-t
i am the pyramid, i’ve inscribed songs on blocks of limestone
the kid in danger when i expose the hidden chamber
you can’t win, you’ll pray that the pen ends
i got a sin for saint just to purify saint’s sins
i’ll send saint, watch saint ascend
but if saint’ll sin, a shot will stand in front of god and hope he send us in
boy i got a dangerous pen, but i’ll pull first and spray ya
i’ve been ridin’ with 2k’s since bulls versus blazers
i’m outside his house with some goons from my hood, n-gga they all r-t-rded
we knock on his window, it’s too late to squash the beef homie, i hardly thought it
he keep hearin’ somethin’ knock, so soon as mic check, the tool will be in his face to get the party started
i depart these artists, he don’t be fightin’ like he said he does
he’ll soon see, danny sharp with the knuckles like freddy glove
n-gga from nebraska? what the f-ck happened to dudes
surprised you ain’t here with a six shooter and spurs on the back of ya shoes
so how’d he (howdy) get this battle to stand in front of me?
cause around high noon i got a call from a n-gga that wanna tumble weed (tumbleweed)
i’m from the great western, i’m alive from tons of blessings
in south central crips and bloods be among the sections
i’ll k!ll you for my sons protection
i’ll stare in the mirror with the strap but don’t see the guns reflection
my o.g., he’s 63, he had a lot of rumbles on them corners
he p-ssed the gang life to his kids, none would get diplomas
do you believe in a parallel universe?
(i do)
he told his kid to “gun ’em if it’s on ya”
see he didn’t become conscious ’til his son was in a coma
michael pointer, you can get two beams or gauge
then i’ll give pointer sisters the same routine on stage
aye b-tch n-gga! these hands, they break spines to minimum
they’re like einstein’s theory, the way i sp-ce time and continuum (continue ’em)
{danny goes super saiyan}
then i son (sun) god like a pendulum
i don’t wanna go with daniel but to save energy i’ll put the heat on his roof like a solar panel
he on a lower channel and you on the ground with this sh-t
this wack mc got another two rounds of this sh-t
yikes!
[round 2: saint mic]
that sh-t was cool my n-gga
but see your predicament of forcin’ sentences
is also the source of your predictiveness
i’m more meticulous at enforcing penmanship with a swordsman diligence
more inquisitive, i’m now caught and pit against
raw inquisitive, raw vindictiveness, lord forgive him his
father’s ignorance
we all know the bar god is a fraud’s job
cause that would give the lord an image when the lord is image-less
i’ve gotta enforce the sentences of death behind bars for playin’ god, y’all consider this false imprisonment
cause once he met a four (metaphor) a mess i’ll (messiah) leave, they hired me to make sure god is victim-less
side bar!
my n-gga…you have a rapist amount of children
hold on, that only one of two personals i got for ya n-gga
we ain’t gonna make this ’bout ya feelings, why bother n-gga?
i believe every single one of them kids is really yours
but is your wife at home being faithful? you ain’t really sure
i mean i ain’t think yo’ -ss was old enough to have alzheimer’s
but i bet the men she (dementia) around got yo’ old -ss feelin’ lost
you gon’ blaze who?
i just copped a new chopper to spray too
so let it get past tense, the gun’s still proper
so you should already know that the k new (knew)
yeah, and i can weed out the fake with this k too (k2)
far as bars, you gon’ have to pull shots from the bird for thinkin’ he got a clear body
gotta be on that liquor, he the grey goose
let’s spike the punch
i land every, told you i got the juice now but for you pal it’s gon’ be cranberry
you just food for the mob n-gga
meanin’ i’ll a cart (a-la-carte) this impostor off
once i l1ck a shot from the bird they gon’ find danny in a pool of sh-lls and vodka sauce
this f-g rappin’? bad fashion, knock it off
spinal shot, get ya chakra lost
kennel owner with the bars, yeah i bought a lot for dawg (dog)
d-mn n-gga, you got way mo’ fans k!ller
but spent all this time tryin’ to “whoo” the crowd and still get slept on main stage
i ain’t gotta talk about rex, you got a serious math problem on yo’ hands n-gga
they say he the bar god, that n-gga gon’ k!ll you, he gon’ go off
and n-gga?
up this tree i hang n-ggas
say clayton bigsby, blind to the bullsh-t, i’m a klan member
the whole hood know i’m on point
[?]
so quit actin’ like danny’s sprayin’ the fifth
arabian b-tch, in other words, they likely to find you underneath the sand n-gga
this ain’t the time to pick a round p-ssy
they gon’ have a hard time tryin’ to identify ya body like you transgender
wait, trans-gender?
well my pen say that don’t know which side you track the plain you stand n-gga
but that’s ironic cause, even though i ain’t makin’ sense it’s still inevitable i be the transcender (trans-sender)
these n-ggas talk too much, but refuse to hear the street
so i’ma help you get on track and make you listen clear
see it may sound wavy but once you stretch it out, the sh-t don’t mix
so i’m here to make the comp’ press (compress). clip him for gettin’ loud
what’s a motor mouth to an engine ear (engineer), i mastered this
you ain’t f-ckin’ wit’ mic
so either own up to what you say, ryda, or get ya -ss capped (ascap), i be in my bag
so if i don’t see [?] from you publishing rights [?]
believe me, it don’t matter the tier it’s all easy
go ahead n-gga, talk greasy
[round 2: danny myers]
keep runnin’ a gang of lip
we don’t do no talk back we just aim and lift
y’all see that movie arrival? we only communicate by paintin’ sh-t
we the foul type
f-ck with the squad and get your child sniped
with the eagle, llama and ox, we talk wild life
cappo set this up
he said, “look homie i like your fire.”
i said, “who you want me to mask up for?”
he said, “michael, myers (meyers).”
without sayin’ a word i got to cuttin’ up
when these b-tches get to trippin’, that’s when they f-ckin’ up
you ole scary -ss n-gga, i know this b-tch can’t fight
but i still keep the rubber on the handle so the grip stay tight
face shot close range, his mama don’t call him by his rap name
but she gon’ say, “this ain’t mike (saint mic).”
b-tch recognize
i was taught to keep a gauge
because of your weak character, i’ll make this n-ggas skate in these streets of rage
mac-11’s, .38’s, we peep the varieties
i’ll dump his body in a soul cellar then join a secret society
i got my eye on you, somethin’ heavy will spray
you got sk!lls, but b-tch you gettin’ buried today
new n-gga versus the goat
is this your iverson crosses jordan moment? let’s not get carried away
you stashin’ money huh? i’m not for play
n-gga the glock’ll spray
this pretty b-tch singing closer to where ever the gwap will lay
i’ll have you plugged up in a hospital, it’ll be a gorgeous site
then i’ll sn-tch all the plugs out the wall, i like cordless mics
i adore your wife
she give me that p-ssy and i stroke her wild
and the head good, that b-tch mouth wider than the joker smile
don’t put your toaster down, i got mine and the cavalry n-gga
it’s about bars, i don’t care about who’s salary n-gga
the n-ggas is sheisty, i don’t give a f-ck about these battle leagues n-gga
the movie ghost taught me to stay away from these shadowy n-ggas
i got two choices, we can box with the hands or i can get the sh-t
if i had hair, i’d pull it out, why would i pick the fist?
i’m a lyricist, i think back to my innocence i had a christmas list
my little brother got a genesis but i’ve always had a different gift
you wasn’t meant for this, i’ll choke this n-gga out
you want me to earl, your followers can’t be strong unless the leader thorough
you do music, huh? stomach shot, i bet his feet’ll curl
this b-tch was fake before the music like [?] world
another shot, he astral projects he gon’ see the world
i cut two x’s across yo’ b-tch eggs, it’s gon’ be a girl
i don’t wanna hear nothin’ ’bout your chrome’s lock
dome shot, from the sniper says you won’t live by a long shot
i got a strap, cause when it comes to hype, i ain’t got a lotta that
you’ll see short n-gga [?] like robert pack
i c-ck it back, and send a saint up with the angels
gee, i’ma treat (geometry) these n-ggas like they can’t f-ck wit’ these angles
it’s nothin’ that i can’t [?]
and he on the ground with this sh-t
this wack mc got a whole ‘nother round of this sh-t
yikes!
[round 3: saint mic]
so keep lyin’
don’t matter, you gon’ keep dyin’
i keep my rays like hippies with the peace sign
stomp this fruit out for little to nothin’, this n-gga cheap wine
mighty midwest, just know i’m a boss on mine
so danny, show respect whenever you cross those lines
cause if my finger itchin’ and i don’t like what i’m hearin’
it’s rounds to yo’ ear n-gga have you lost yo’ mind?
so you believe in a parallel universe?
that’s a pretty oxymoronic sentence, but since this n-gga think he the god of lyrics let’s talk quantum physics
cause if you can’t play the part of cool (particle) excel or rate (accelerate) what i send big rounds at him (atom)
smash ’em, just to prove that only dark matter once the light remove
[?] b-tch n-gga
i’m here to prove that god bleeds
and wouldn’t feel the need to scream if he was a god if he truly believed he was godly wit’ it
moral of the scheme? to up the ante (anti) matters when you, try to sit beside (synthesize) the god with digits so
every action has a reaction and that’s why the good die young for tryin’ to defy the law of physics
i’m your father figures
so f-ck whatchu heard bro
i don’t ask for respect n-gga
always politickin’ ’bout who top tier
only sh-t about you that’s top tier is the first row…back of yo’ neck n-gga
far as a n-gga from nebraska concerned i was top tier when i got here
how the f-ck do you think i got here?
cause i rap like there is not tiers
so all you so-called top tier n-ggas, since they dodging ’em
my peoples will off his (office) n-gga; craig robinson
split his pineapple just to express he won’t gain consciousness
loud [?] strap, clap clap, let’s state the obvious
i smoke sh-t and you gon’ listen to him
we like fightin’, i’m likely to dumb out
through these fists is flowin’, bring the prison to him
be at his front yard flexin’
no guns out just kick the [?] through and {huhm huhm} put some scissors to him
that’s how i give it to him in his living room
all you’ll hear is wehw wehw, sound like a lil’ n-gga playin’ mike tyson punchout
what the funk ’bout?
f-ck yo’ couch n-gga
i don’t spare n-ggas, i’m a rare n-gga
{chokes}
you should’ve knew since, the moment i got here was time you hung it up
i’m up next, i’m a new since (nuisance) that’s how i got here n-gga
you team extendo?
well you gon’ be under 20/20 with the scope for livin’ with vision that is not near n-ggas
you thought that “i’m a god sh-t” was gon’ rock queer n-gga?
not here n-gga
i’m from the blast ya
home of malik shabazz, omaha steaks [?] beef gettin’ boxed here n-gga
i’m back again
with the red dot the lead will (letter) know i’m short with words but f-ck the acronyms
literally, that ain’t even the half of it
master pen, through the pad i’m sharp with bars
lift you [?] i write with javelins
bash f-ckers
last supper
yeah mary ain’t the only discipline with a mag to lend (magdalene)
you can not stop him
i don’t care if the cops watchin’
if i want the chain smoke this f-g, yeah
sig’ (cig) long flame him to ash we hot boxin’
i’ll turn your street to a wall with these stock options
ya guy through
we from the same cl-ss, i’m not new
and every n-gga in that cl-ss can get lifted too
welcome to flight school, come through
soon as i split the window you get in the bag i’m trained to go n-gga, drive-thru
it’s bigger than battle rap
if we bringin’ -ss-ssins straps to rival habitat
he gon’ dance with the stars, try to get off that psych rappin’ act
til that rifle clap him, that’s when it hit his chest
spit ’em hard, i break his neck
listen n-gga, tell- all i’m sayin’ is i got somethin’ in the whip that could bring michael jackson back
believe me, don’t matter the tears
it’s all easy
go ‘head n-gga, talk greasy
[round 3: danny myers]
a born hustler…versus a corn husker
i ain’t tryin’ to provide jokes
i’m here to slap the sh-t out this n-gga and hurt his pride most
you be on facebook with subliminals, that’s some sh-t you can’t hide folks
i’ll get two batteries cause you gettin’ jumped for them side posts
you usin’ this league to get back to smack, that’s why they gon’ dump off on him
you think the connects gave you the plug just so you run off ’em?
you be in lincoln, nebraska, i bet you lame
i’m from where n-ggas pull up in that lincoln and bruh ask you, “what set you claim?”
i’ll wet you lames, i’ll run in the spot and leave him hog tied
only 12 left in the clip, i’ll let ’em all fly
the homie wanna shoot his -ss again
i said, “whatever you feed him after 12, sh-t’ll pop out his back like a mogwai
my n-ggas gremlins
i got inside connects at the kremlin
all bets are off when i pull up with a russian named detrolov
this the death of y’all
large sh-t, sub-machines and ar’s l1ck
we don’t play them fightin’ games, this hk ain’t for “hard kick”
i bar spit, you study us legends and copy our sh-t
them .9 irons we pull out the caddy, he not on par wit’
i’m from a dark strip, it was welfare or you had to hard pitch
i had solo sequences with the rock like a guitar riff
i sold the best dope, that’s why my memories wrong
but they knows (thanos), these fiends tried to stay infinity stone-d
my boy said you ain’t half as nice
fans be frontin’, they ain’t actin’ right
it wasn’t complicated, my dawg (dog) vision was black and white
you can’t handle myers, ain’t no survivin’ when this ammo fires
big sh-t sit in the desert like a camel spider
if you crippin’ let it be known, boy just tell us
don’t rep them colors in disguise (da skies) like aurora borealis
home invasions, my n-ggas do falls very crazy
you’ll see the devil in the crib like rosemary’s baby
sunday morning, first service, during the church verses
i ask his pastor, “what’s a saint on earth’s purpose?”
i question him, “who are the descendants of the nephilim?
what evidence did jesus leave after the death of him?”
the breath of him, holy spirit put melanin in my skeleton
yet the gellin’ him over the very pigment of the flesh of him
i pressure him, “who wrote the testaments and can i message them?”
but it turns out, saint a false prophet like the rest of them
n-gga, you be actin’ tough over the internet, that’s why they had to fly me in
you think you can do karate behind an ip like donny yen?
i’ll make his body spin, 100 round drum, you better save grace
i’m missin’ ten tho (nintendo) but this 64’s tryin’ to wave race
i’ll play b-ss, but wasn’t a musician
just to keep my family on track like my cousin a beautician
you f-ckin’ wit’ true spittin’, nothin’ you do hidden
open ya eyes, battle rap is under a new division
bar god!
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